Reality
by nearlygolden
Summary: Break is struggling between the reality that Reim's alive, and the illusion that he's actually joined the Sinclair family beyond the grave. All because he can't see.


Break couldn't see him.

He couldn't see the room of Pandora, colored with different shades of purple. Nor did he notice the bed he was sitting next to, his fingers only centimeters from the material spread across it. Though he once heard the light breath of the young man sleeping coming from the bed, he could no longer. Break ran in his mind, escaping that reality only to turn into a shadow deep within.

Where he was, blood covered the walls and floor, drops spilling into the creases between each stone. Red stained the bottom of his boots as he ran, each breath he took echoing down the hall. Break had to make it. As the blood turned into a large room, he turned into it as well, only to freeze just inches from the doorway. His heart clenched in his chest as his wine eye widened.

Limp, cold bodies covered the floor. Each one mirrored a familiar face from the past. The Sinclair family. The very people he once worked for now lie motionless on the floor, blood pooling under each fleshy shell. Those soulless eyes looked his way, but showed no sense of recognition. Their mouths were open, but no words escaped. There was nothing to them now but cold skin.

'I'm too late.'

Break turned, hoping to escape the image. Instead, his eye fell on broken glasses, bits of glasses leading to another body, just as frozen as the rest. Hazel eyes were cast in his direction, void of any emotion. That mouth, once warm and vanilla scented, was slackened, releasing small drops of red. Gloved fingers curled up towards him, but made no reach. Reim. His Reim. Break felt his knees shake lightly. No. It couldn't be true.

"Xerxes?"

Break was suddenly plunged into darkness again. The familiar voice cast the image away. Now, he noticed the room and the small huff of another person's presence. A smile stretched across his face. It wasn't genuine, but he hoped it would hide any emotion that dared to mar his face.

"Ah, Reim-san! You've kept me waiting." He should be relieved. Reim spoke to him, after all. But a knot tightened up in his stomach as an odd, light sweat touched on his brow. An edge of doubt lingered as those red stains formed again. He couldn't see the young man, what if it wasn't truly him?

"What are you doing here? You should be resting." Break knew Reim would be adjusting his silver framed glasses as he said something like this. His hazel eyes might glare lightly in his direction as his forehead showed just the slightest crease of frustration. But it wasn't real. It couldn't be.

"I woke up days ago," Break said, trying to push aside the doubt again.

"That doesn't mean you should be up," Reim said, starting a mundane lecture about Break's abysmal treatment of himself. Break couldn't focus on the words. His mind quickly turned back to those halls where Reim's body lie. There was no warmth left. No life. All he could do was stare at the blood, which was far more realistic than those words daring to invade his thoughts. Break tried to speak over them with the only thing he could think to say.

"I'm sorry."

Suddenly, the hum of words stopped. The hiss of the noiseless silence echoed into Break's ears. That reddened room returned fully. Those familiar faces of his past haunted him, showing him what his absence caused. Each one he was blamed for. Each and every one. Still, a calm voice tried to ease the demons.

"Xerx, what happened to me wasn't your fault."

"I was the reason you were there in the first place," Break said, his voice wavering as a lump formed in his throat, "I got into that room and I thought I was too late. No, I was too late."

"Xerxes-"

"You could have told me about the March Hare, despite that stupid duke's orders. Maybe then I wouldn't believe that you're gone. Because I can't... I can't..." Break's voice died away. His heart tightened painfully in his chest. A tremor coursed through his hands. Break wanted to run. He wanted to escape.

Then something touched on his fingers, skating over his trembling skin with the greatest ease. It was a hand, larger than his own. And it was warm. So, so warm. Seconds later, three words echoed through the silence.

"I'm right here."

Brick after brick, that illusion disappeared. Those bodies vanished. Each face fell back into the darkness, disappearing deep in the shadows. Now, there was nothing but that warmth lingering over his hand. A beacon of life.

Break brought his other hand over, letting his fingers run against it. He felt his back tremble as he leaned forward, his forehead pressing against the heat. After a moment, he took a deep breath. Just the slightest tinge of vanilla caught in his throat. Within a moment, there was a true smile on his face.

This was his Reim after all.

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><p>Any critiques and compliments are loved!<p> 


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